


One of Us, But Never You

by Sparky_Young_Upstart



Category: Abrahamic Religions, African Diasporic Mythology, Chinese Mythology, Glee, Norse Religion & Lore, Slavic Mythology & Folklore, The Wicked + The Divine
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, F/F, F/M, M/M, Posthumous Finchel, Rachel is a sleuth, fusion fic, other relationships will be tagged as they occur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:37:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3638757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparky_Young_Upstart/pseuds/Sparky_Young_Upstart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gods have returned, as teenagers and as rockstars. Rachel thought it was a load of crap until it started happening to her closest friends. But while everyone is in it for the fame and the glory, Rachel is digging deeper. She wants her friends back. She wants the truth. And if a god of death rears their head, she's willing to make a deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Start Believin'

**Author's Note:**

> So...this is a pretty odd idea I feel. But at the same time, the two works make a decent pair. Just some notes on continuity, this takes in January 2014, which I think is some place in season 5 but before the end...at any rate, Rachel has begun Funny Girl and hasn't become bored, Kurt and Blaine are still engaged, and the Glee club has been disbanded at this point.

“It’s supposed to happen this year,” Kurt says as he absently taps on the piano keys in the loft. “Every 90 years, and the last one was in 1922, so they figure the next one will be starting up pretty soon.”

Rachel walked out of the bathroom, still drying her hair. “And what’s it called? The Reverence?”

“The Recurrence,” Kurt corrected. He shifted so that he could be facing her. “I mean, it’s a pretty on-the-nose name, if you ask me, but I guess the so-called ‘gods’ are the ones who named it.” Rachel nodded, but Kurt could tell she wasn’t really paying attention. “You think it’s a load of bull.”

Rachel shook her head, but not very hard. “No, of course not, but...come on Kurt. Ancient gods reincarnating as teenagers?”

“And young adults.”

“Close enough. It sounds like some urban legend that people keep latching on to.” She tossed the towel back into the bathroom. “I mean, there’s no way they could verify that. Did they just call themselves gods to better make a name for themselves?”

Kurt sighed. “There is evidence, though, and while it is circumstantial the fact that it always happens every 90 years on the dot is a pretty clear pattern.”

Rachel returned to the bathroom to start doing her makeup. “It sounds pretty weak to me.”

Kurt dropped his elbow onto the keys, making a loud *bonk* noise as Blaine walked through the door. “Hey gang,” he called, holding up a cardboard box. “I brought cronuts to share! Please. I don’t want to eat an entire box again.”

Kurt got up and took the box from his fiancé and gave him a quick kiss. “Thanks, babe.” he plucked a treat out and put it on a plate. “Hey, you’ve heard of the Recurrence thing, right?”

Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, sure, sure...refresh my memory?”

“It’s this thing that a bunch of anthropologists have been talking about loud enough to get the media interested.” said Kurt between bites. “Basically it’s this thing were every 90 years, a group of twelve teenagers or young adults are turned into gods from old myths, spread their word through song, become famous, and then die after two years.”

Rachel burst out of the bathroom. “That’s the other thing! Who would take that deal? It’s so not worth it. I want my fame to last.” She disappeared back into the room.

Blaine nodded slowly. “Oh yeah...I stopped paying attention to that because it sounded kind of silly. Like, Mayan-doomsday silly.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and groaned. “It’s not that silly! I’ve been looking at the literature about it and there are a lot of interesting ideas and theories going around! Besides, I think it’d be cool if there were mythical figures walking among us.”

Rachel walked out again, fully prepared for the night out. “Oh yeah, that sounds great. Just imagine being Zeus and being able to just bang every woman you see.”

Blaine laughed. “Yeah! Or be Loki and experience firsthand what it’s like to give birth to a horse.”

Kurt grabbed his coat. “I know the two of you are mocking me, but trust me. Soon we’re going to be hearing about some incredible new rockstar and you’ll be eating your words.”

Rachel shook her head. “Let’s just drop it, okay? I’m really not keen on talking about teenagers dying for their art these days.” She turned to her other roommate. “Blaine, me and Kurt are headed to Callbacks tonight. Do you wanna join us?”

He shrugged. “Sure. I’ve got nothing else planned tonight.”

The three of them descended the stairs, and Kurt shifted the conversation to something else per Rachel’s request. He was totally enamoured with the idea of the Recurrence, of course, but he should have known earlier that the topic would hit a sore spot for her. So they discussed new musicals hitting Broadway that season, and Kurt and Blaine’s teachers, and Rachel’s nights in Funny Girl. It wasn’t until they reached the bottom of the stairs that Kurt patted his pockets.

“Oh shoot, I forgot my phone.” He sighed. “Alright, you guys go on without me."

“You sure?” Blaine asked with a frown.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll catch up to you two in a bit.” He spun around and ran up the stairs, Rachel and Blaine continuing the short walk behind him.

How had he forgotten his cell? Most days it was permanently attached to his hand. It was important to stay connected, to stay informed. What had caused him to leave it behind?

Kurt slid the door to the apartment open and let out a small yelp of surprise when he saw a black cloaked figure standing in the centre of the apartment. The stood facing the window, not seeming to notice or care when he walked inside.

“Um...who are you? What are you doing here?” he asked cautiously. They didn’t seem dangerous, but they had obviously broken and entered so who knew what they were capable of.

The figure turned slowly, and Kurt saw it was a woman - an old woman - with a lacey veil over her eyes. But they still glowed from beneath it. _Glowed_. How did they..? They were a deep violet, so powerful that he couldn’t help but get lost within them. He took a step closer -

\- and was falling, burning, being torn apart. “You are of the Pantheon,” he heard the woman say. He knew it had to be her, she was all he could see. “You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant. Within two years, you will be dead.” Kurt - was he still Kurt? - felt himself being rebuilt now, into something more. “You are the first maker of poetry. God of bards. Of speech. Of wisdom.”

There was a singed circle on the floor of the apartment where he sat. Rachel would be mad about it, but he didn’t much care. His hair had gained ginger streaks in it. His old clothes were gone, but he didn’t mind much. A white button up shirt under a black leather vest, emblazoned with musical notes on the front and a beautiful harp on the back, and combat boots to finish it off. He was still Kurt, but he was also so much more.

“We meet again, Bragi,” said Ananke. “I’ve missed you.”


	2. God Walks Into a Bar

Blaine drummed his fingers on the table as he listened to the NYADA freshman plink his way through a poor rendition of “One of Us”. He checked his phone again, waiting for Kurt to text him or call him or something. It had been half an hour since he ran back to grab his phone, Blaine was sure that something had happened that was making him take so long. He was worried.

Rachel arrived with their drinks and was able to determine Blaine’s state of mind with a single glance. “Stop freaking out,” she scorned. “Kurt probably got a call from his dad or had to go to the bathroom or something. Nothing is wrong, so calm down.”

Blaine let out a small breath. “I know you’re right, but I can’t shake this feeling.” He tapped the table again. “I should have gone with him.”

“To get his phone?” Rachel shook her head. “Between you and your paranoia and Kurt and his second coming nonsense...” She didn’t finish the sentence, instead letting the point peter off into the distance, but her annoyance came through clear as day.

Blaine’s phone pinged. Kurt had made a tweet. His face lit up at the prospect, but fell into confusion as he read the tweet. “Rachel, do you know what Kurt’s talking about here?” He handed her his phone, and she raised an eyebrow at what she read.

_The most wondrous thing/Happened to me this bright day/This light’s not hiding_

“Is that a haiku?” she asked. She counted off on her fingers and yeah, the syllables matched up. Blaine tried to think of anything Kurt had told him about today, but he couldn’t recall anything so great that it would warrant being called ‘wondrous’. Did it have to do with why Kurt was late? Did he get some sort of call back?

“Hey, did you and Kurt talk about anything else while I was gone, or just the Recurrence thing?” he asked. Rachel shrugged and shook her head.

“No. Yeah, I have no idea what this tweet is talking about either.” She’d never known her friend to be so poetic. Theatrical, ostentatious, and flamboyant, certainly, but not this kind of speech and wordplay. It was...fucking bizarre.

Kurt hadn’t known himself to be like that either, but Bragi knew it well. They were one and the same - the god had always been inside him to some degree, he knew. Parts of Kurt remained - important parts, but were they ever Kurt’s? They fit so well with Bragi that they may have always been his. Kurt wasn’t gone. But he was Bragi.

He was Bragi.

He had embraced Ananke after his awakening - he knew that was what it called, even if she never said a word - and she helped to clarify the myriad thoughts swimming through his mind. What he was, what he was meant to do, his lore, his domain, his necessity. Bragi felt like he had just come out of a dream. Bragi felt like the world was his oyster.

Bragi felt a poem coming on.

Ananke was gone, but he didn’t care. He whipped out his phone and got on twitter, quickly typing out a quick haiku. It was enough for now, but there was so much more inside him that he knew he had to share with the world. He began walking to Callbacks. He felt eyes staring at him as he strutted down the sidewalk. Bragi was nothing outlandish compared to other New York oddities, but he exuded an air about him that simply drew people in. He walked like a person who knew where they were going, and as others passed by they looked after him and began to follow him. They wanted to be where there when he got there.

Blaine was just walking out the door when Bragi got there. He intended to go back to the apartment and see how Kurt was doing, but when he saw his fiancé walking towards him he smiled with relief. “Kurt! Kurt, where’ve you been? What was with that tweet?” He paused, finally realizing that something had changed. “Did you change your outfit? Wait...” Blaine knew every piece of clothing that Kurt owned, and he didn’t recognize any of these. “Did you _make_ a new outfit?” Even as he spoke he knew that wasn’t it either. He could feel the power coming off of the man in front of him.

Bragi shook his head. “It’s a long story. You’ll understand soon. I just need to get inside.” He brushed past Blaine and walked inside, followed by the small mob that had gathered behind him. The crowd wasn’t huge, but it was enough that Blaine had to shove through them in order to get back inside.

All eyes where on Bragi as he walked straight to the stage. Rachel was about to call out to him, but even she faltered when she saw what he had become. He never broke stride until he reached the stage. He waited for the boy there to finish, and when he had Bragi climbed up and walked over to him.

“Mind if I give it a go?”

The boy nodded and handed him the microphone.

Bragi sang. Nobody could tell what he was saying, but they felt it. He spoke a language comprised entirely of emotion and meaning. Blaine stared in awe. There was something unfathomably perfect about what he was hearing. The entire bar was flooded with Bragi’s ballade, which spoke of nostalgia and hope and inspiration. Most people began whipping out their cellphones and recording it. Rachel felt something squeeze her hand and realized that she and a girl at a nearby table has grabbed each other’s hands instinctively as the song went on.

It seemed like eternity until the song ended, but when it did there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Everybody there was shocked at first, breaking themselves out of the daze they’d fallen into when Bragi had entered their lives, but then they regained their footing and broke out into applause. Bragi did a little curtsy before jumping down off the stage. The crowd gathered around him, complimenting him for his performance, thanking him for letting them hear it. Bragi smiled but pushed them aside. He knew that he had a lot of explaining to do.

Blaine and Rachel were waiting for him at the back of the room, arms around each other. They both wore huge grins across their faces.

“Kurt, that was amazing!” Rachel cried as soon as he as close enough. She threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly. Then she moved aside for Blaine, who grabbed his love by the shoulders and kissed him passionately. When it broke, he had to take a breath.

“I don’t know what happened, but whatever you just did was beautiful,” he said, not letting go of his fiancé’s shoulders.

Bragi smiled. “Thanks. It’s new to me too. But that whole thing back there...it wasn’t Kurt.” He saw their smiles fade into confusion and quickly continued. “You remember what I was talking about earlier? About the Recurrence?”

Blaine nodded. Rachel gulped. All the joy she had been feeling moments before suddenly began to drain from her.

“I’ve...awoken. I’m more than just Kurt. I’m Bragi now.”

Blaine twisted his brow. “Bragi? What...is that a stage name?”

Kurt shook his head. “No, silly. It’s me. I’m the Norse god of Poetry. I’m a god.”

Blaine paused a moment, taking it in. It sounded ridiculous before, but hearing the words come from Kurt now, after a song like that...it all made sense. Blaine cracked out in a huge smile.

“Oh my god! Ku - Bragi! Oh my god!” he laughed with joy and pulled Bragi back into his arms.

Rachel grabbed a chair to steady herself. Her world was falling apart all over again. She only barely heard Bragi call her name before she blacked out.


	3. Left in the Afterglow

_How do we know you’re a real god? Isn’t this just a publicity stunt of some sort?_

_You can ask anybody who heard me. They’ll attest to it._

_But there’s no verifiable proof! There’s nothing concrete!_

_In the long run, it doesn’t matter. I know what I am, and that’s what’s important. I just want other people to hear me._

_Where’s you’re next gig?_

_I don’t know, but I’m sure somebody will be calling me soon._

Rachel groaned as she came too. The nearby voices echoed around in her pounding head, and when she tried to open her eyes she flinched away from the brightness. She was lying on something soft, but it wasn’t her bed. She blinked again, with less disastrous results, and slowly eased herself into a sitting position.

She was still at Callbacks. The soft surface turned out to be a gurney. The bar was swimming with three kinds of people - the paparazzi, the paramedics, and the witnesses. The last group was huddled to one side being tended to by the professionals, leaving the paparazzi to flock around Bragi in the centre of the room. The god held his interview as if nothing else going on in the bar was happening. Blaine scurried over to her as soon as he saw her get up. “Hey, take it easy,” he said softly as she reeled again. He grabbed her hand to steady her.

Rachel motioned towards the many paramedics. “What are they all doing here?”

Blaine looked over, then back to her. “We were all kind of drained after that performance. I think you took it the hardest, but after we called them for you other people started to go down. I went out for a bit too.” He chuckled. “They said we all sowed signs of extreme exhaustion, like we had just finished running a marathon without any training.” He sat down beside her. “And then the press heard about that and swooped in, but Bragi stole our thunder after they found out he was the source of it all.”

“Don’t call him that.”

Blaine turned to face Rachel, and saw that she looked mortified. “Why not?”

“Because none of this is real!” she snapped. “This is all just Kurt playing some kind of - of - it has to be a hoax!”

Blaine tried to take her hand, but she slapped him away. Still, he pressed on. “Rachel, I know it’s bizarre - everything about this is. But you felt the same thing I did. What he sang back there wasn’t human. It was...” he sighed like he was falling in love all over again. “It was heavenly.”

And he was right. Rachel couldn’t argue against that. When she saw Bragi enter the bar she felt instantly drawn to him. And when he sang, she was filled with so much emotion that she was scared that she would burst - and even if she had, she would be fine with that. Those feelings had faded from her by now, but Rachel still had the memory of them and couldn’t think of any other way to explain it. Some deep, dark part of her soul new that Bragi was who he claimed to be. She felt like she was going to be sick.

She realized that Blaine hadn’t stopped smiling since she woke up. “Blaine, how can you be so happy about this?”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s amazing. I’m engaged to a _god_. Who else could say that?”

Rachel gaped. “So, what, you just think you and Bragi are gonna get married and that’s it? That nothing else is going to change?”

Blaine turned back to Bragi and looked wistfully at him. “Well, of course a lot of things have changed. But he’s still the man I love.”

“For how long?” she replied, loud enough to get the attention of the local deity. Bragi glanced towards her, but it was enough to cause the cameras to turn towards her. She didn’t notice. “Don’t you remember the last part of what Kurt had told us?” Blaine shook his head. Rachel fumed and turned to Bragi. She saw the cameras but didn’t care. If the press wanted his story they were getting the whole thing. “You said that with each Recurrence, within two years, the gods are all dead.”

Bragi looked solemn for a brief moment. “I know.” When he replied, it had none of the gravitas or majesty that his voice held moments before. It was Kurt again, however briefly. “That’s the price of this.”

Rachel’s rage had subsided, and as it boiled off all that was left underneath was a feeling of hollow fear. “Why Kurt?” she pleaded. “Why would you do this?”

Bragi shook his head. “I didn’t choose this. This -” he gestured to himself, then the whole room, “- this was always a part of me, just waiting to come out.” He walked up to her and took her hands. “Rachel, I know it’s scary, but this is _amazing_. I can spread joy and wisdom and inspiration across the world like this. I can perform miracles, I can give blessings. I know it’s only two years, but I can make them last. They’ll be a good two years.”

Rachel shook her head. “I don’t care. I already lost Finn. I don’t want to lose you too.”

Blaine had been silent during the altercation. He had so many emotions mixing within him that he couldn’t bring himself to act on any of them. But Rachel’s last word, that was what broke him. He stood up and walked to the press, standing between them and his friends. “This interview’s over.”

The crowd of paparazzi clamoured at him, trying to get past him, but he stood his ground. “I said _get! out!_ ” It was loud enough to turn them around, at least for now. Once they were gone he turned and looked at Bragi. The god looked back with mournful eyes.

“We could still get married,” he offered.

Blaine just threw his arms around him and wept.

* * *

Around the world, people watched.

The first videos were just called “Amazing Song At Bar!” and “Gay guy has great voice”. But as word spread (and _his_ words spread), people began to realize. They compared notes. They hit up message boards.Forums once frequented only by anthropologists and mythologists suddenly burst to life with people seeking answers.

The top five google searches after his performance were: “Who is Bragi?”, “What is the recurrence?”, “1923 recurrence”, “Who is Idunn?”, and “Flights to New York”.

Some people didn’t watch. A single god wasn’t enough to convince them that something amazing was happening. Understandable.

Kurt's friends watched too. His phone was soon blowing up with messages from his old glee club compatriots. They wanted to ask how he got so good at first, but then that shifted to demands about whether the two-year rule was real or not. Those who weren't in New York  started planning ways to get there so they could be with him - some to support him, and some to be in his fandom.

One of Kurt's friends was just waking up as this all happened.

“You are of the Pantheon. You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant. Within two years, you will be dead.

“You are the maiden in the moon. Goddess of the sky. Of night. Of immortality.

“We meet again, Chang’e,” said Ananke. “I’ve missed you.”


	4. Confessional

Blaine and Bragi sat in their room, alone. Blaine was on the edge of the bed, hands locked together, head staring down at the floor in thought. Bragi sat across from him in the desk chair, head tilted to the side so that he could look out the window. There was a horde of fans outside the apartment building (they hadn't been very covert when they returned home, the didn't think they would have to be) hoping to catch a glimpse of the deity. He waited for Blaine to say something. Bragi new of a hundred ways to start the conversation, but he could also tell that Blaine wanted to have the first word.

Finally the other boy spoke up. "I feel like we should be holding your funeral."

Kurt turned to look at him head on. "Blaine, no. I've never felt more alive."

Blaine groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. "How - how can you say that?" His eyes were starting to tear up again. "You have two years left. That's it. You go off to wherever and I'm left here."

"I'm scared too, Blaine," replied Bragi. "I would never do this to you if I had a choice." He moved to sit at Blaine's side, but the other boy just stood up and walked away.

"Everything I'm - fuck. Everything you went through when Finn died? That's what I'm feeling now." He pointed at nothing in particular for emphasis. "But it's worse because I still have to see you and I feel like I'm just waiting."

"Then don't just wait." Bragi replied sternly. "Yes, I have a deadline, but I also have a purpose now and I'm not going to waste it. Just like I'm not going to waste my time with you." He stood up and strode over to his fiancé. "We could sit here and act like I'm already dead, but wouldn't that just be throwing away this opportunity?"

Blaine pursed his lips, thinking. It was hard to force anything but grief out of his foggy mind, but he tried. Kurt - Bragi - he didn't look torn up about this, but he could see something behind those eyes. They seemed so much more soulful and wise now, even though they hadn't changed. "I...I don't know." Something snapped inside him, and in a swell of anger he punched the wall beside him.

Bragi flinched and immediately grabbed his hand. The punch was hard enough to bloody the knuckles. "Don't do that, baby. Don't hurt yourself because of me." He rubbed his hands over Blaine's, whispering something in that same ancient tongue. Blaine felt the pain in his hand ebb away as the blood evaporated and the cuts closed themselves.

"You're a miracle," he murmured.

"I'm you're miracle."

* * *

"How long have they been in there?" Artie asked as he wheeled past the bedroom. He didn't hear anything past the door, so he couldn't eavesdrop. He wondered if maybe the speech God had silenced the conversation last the room.

Rachel sipped her coffee. "Two hours, maybe more. I haven't been keeping track."

"He's married," Sam said from his seat in front of Artie's laptop. Rachel gave him a quizzical look. "Bragi? He's got a wife. Idunn. Least, it think that's how you pronounce it." He paused. "Wait, does that mean Kurt's straight now?"

Rachel shook her head. "I don't think so. Why else would they be trying to fix there relationship in there?"

"How does this work anyway?" asked Artie. "Is it a possession thing, or what?"

"Kurt said that 'everything he was before had been leading to this moment'. I guess he was always a - a god. And he didn't know it?" she shook her head again. "This whole thing is just - it's a clusterfuck of stupid." Rachel took a breath, trying to keep herself from losing it again. "And he's gonna die in two years."

Sam immediately jumped up and grabbed her arms. "Hey, we don't know that. We don't know anything about this Recurrence thing. Maybe the two-year limit is just a hoax?"

She sighed. "No, it's real. Bragi was pretty clear about it when I asked him. One of the few things he was actually open about." Somebody knocked on the door and Rachel stomped towards it. "I swear if that's a not her bloody fanatic I'm going to throw them out the window."

She flung it open and was prepared to snap, but immediately calmed down when she saw Quinn. "Oh, thank god your here." She pulled the other girl into a big hug.

"Of course. I came as soon as you called." She glanced at the others. "Hey boys."

"Hey" Sam and Artie chorused.

Quinn turned back to Rachel. "How are you holding up? Are you ok?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Ugh, I don't even know anymore. I was sad first, then I was angry, then I was stuck somewhere in between, and now I'm just too tired to feel anything."

Quinn too. Rachel by the hand and began walking her to her bedroom. "You need to sleep. You sound like you've been up for far too long."

"I can't, I -"

"No arguing." Quinn opened the door. "Get some rest. I'll be here in the morning." She pushed Rachel onto the bed, smiling when the girl fell asleep almost immediately. Quinn closed the door softly, then turned to the boys. "Really, how's she doing?"

"Awful."

"Brutal."

Quinn sighed. "I figured."

Another door creaked open, and Blaine and Bragi walked out. Hand in hand. "Quinn!" Bragi said with glee. "You came!"

She nodded. "Yes, well, I heard there was a revelation going on down here. How's divinity treating you?"

"It's actually going well," Bragi said with a grin. He squeezed Blaine's hand, and the other boy spoke up.

"Yes, we, Uh, we worked everything out. We decided that we are going to deal with this and not waste time, which means -"

"We're moving up the wedding!" Bragi finished. The announcement was met with whoops and cheers from Sam, and a thumbs-up from Artie.

Quinn nodded. "Good to hear. I'm sure it will be great. Listen, Bragi..." She said it slowly, not used to calling the boy in front of her by that name. "I know you've probably got a lot of planning to do, but there are about two hundred screaming fa girls and fanboys outside that I had to fight through in order to get up here. I think they're for you. Can you handle them?"

Bragi smiled. "Sure!" He turned to his fiancé. "Blaine, do you wanna meet my fans?"

Blaine grinned back. "I think that'd be great."


	5. Lighter, Brighter, Beautiful

A hush fell over the lobby as Chang'e walked into the studio. Her appearance in the world was still mostly under wraps, but the word about her had traveled throughout the label. As soon as Bragi became a thing, the heads knew that they needed to capitalize on it. They tracked him down easily enough, since all of his social media accounts were still listed under "Kurt Hummel". But any attempt to contact him with regards to signing a contract or even coming in for a meeting totally failed. They briefly thought that maybe another label had beaten them to the punch, but corporate spies informed them otherwise.

When Chang'e called her manager to tell him what had happened to her, he was doubtful. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted her to be real - Lord knows, having a god on his resume would keep him sitting pretty until he died - but the fact of the matter was that in the forty-eight hours between Bragi's emergence and now, there had been enough imposters popping up to fill three pantheons. "Fake Hades" was already an internet meme. It was the price of that age - new acts only remained new for so long.

So when Chang'e called him to her apartment and greeted him at the door with her hair wrapped up in bunny-ear buns, draped in a silver and jade dress, and wearing jade jewelry, he thought she was just jumping on the bandwagon.

"No, it's legit Joey. I am a goddess." She spread her arms so that Joey could take in the whole package. Admittedly, there was something different about her. An air of power that was always present whenever they were in the studio, but now it had been magnified a thousandfold.

"I wanna believe you Mercedes -"

"Chang'e," she corrected. "Chinese moon goddess."

"Right. Chang'e, you're great, but I need more proof than just some fancy new duds."

She cocked her hips to the side and crossed her arms. "What, you don't see it? You can't feel the magic in me? Do you not see the bigass green crater in the middle of my apartment floor?" She pointed, and Joey glanced at the pale green dent she spoke of. He had no clue how that got there. "But you want something real. A'ight, fine, I can do that." She held her hands up, pressing together her thumb, index, and middle fingers.

"1-" She closed her eyes. "-2-" The air in the apartment grew cold. "-3-" Joey tensed up as he felt something in the room change. "-4."

Chang'e snapped her fingers and there was a small flash of green light. Joey covered his eyes. When he looked towards her, he saw he cradling something in her arms. It was green and so innocent. She walked towards him and he realized it was a rabbit - a jade rabbit. The critter's nose twitched as it swiveled its head around, but all of its body was smooth stone. Joey stared at it.

"That's amazing." He whispered after a few moments of silence.

"Hell yeah it is!" Chang'e replied, placing the rabbit on the ground. It took a few hops, a small thud coming from its feet whenever they hit the ground. "Y'all said you wanted a god, well let's go show 'em a goddess!"

* * *

 

Everyone at the label had been told what to expect when Ms. Jones walked in that door. That she had changed her look, that she had changed her name, that she had a new pet that she was not comfortable leaving at home. She was to be treated with the utmost respect, more than anybody else they had signed. The lower people worked on the totem pole, the less serious they took it. Interns made jokes about being fired for blasphemy, and occasional covers of the Sailor Moon theme could be heard coming from the break room.

And then they saw her. She walked in like she owned the place, holding her rabbit in her arms. Joey followed behind her, talking rapidly on his cell. Chang'e greeted everyone who she passed with a "morning!" or a "hey boo!" or a "holla!" depending on how well she new them. The way she acted was exactly the way she acted everyday, but everyone commented on how amazing she looked once she had passed by.

It's one thing to hear about a goddess. It's another to hear one.

It's one thing to act like a goddess. It's another to be one.

Chang'e and Joey climbed into the elevator, and as they ascended she felt herself become lighter, brighter, and more beautiful. She had never heard her own story before Ananke's visit, but now she remembered it as if it had happened yesterday. She remembered her beloved Hou Yi shooting the extra Suns out of the sky. She remembered the elixir of immortality being rewarded to him by the Emperor (or did he make it himself?). She remembered drinking it (by accident) (on purpose) (forced to) and floating into the sky. She remembered landing on the moon, her only companions being the jade rabbits that made more elixirs. Or rice cakes.

All of these versions were true, and she remembered them all clear as crystal, even when they conflicted with each other. The nature of her story had changed over the years, but it's meaning was strong enough even after all these years. She belonged in the sky.

The doors opened and Chang'e strode into the conference room, Joey right behind her. She took her seat at one end of the table, with the president of the label at the other end She set the rabbit on the floor, where it flopped around on the carpet. Every executive there was smiling, but they were uneasy smiles, as if they were all concerned that somebody was linking them. They needed her, but they'd be lying if they said that they had any idea who or what she really was. To them she was a trend, and she needed to be capitalized on.

"Thank you for meeting with us, miss...Chang'e," the president began. "I see you've had quite the Chang'e recently."

Chang'e smiled. "Nothing major. Just a new look, new powers, and an expiration date. Speaking of which, I'm hoping we can make this quick so I can start spreading my word."

"Of course." He consulted his notes. "Now, obviously we have to finish your current album, but I'm sure we can hasten that along -"

"No," the goddess replied.

The older man raised an eyebrow. "No? Sweetie, I'm afraid that isn't your call."

"It sure as hell is. My voice goes where I want it to go. An album is just wasting your time."

The president pushed his notes away - he new when the talent didn't want to follow the script, and he hadn't gotten to where he was today without learning how to get them back on track. "Miss Chang'e, or whatever it is your calling yourself these days, I feel like you are forgetting one of the most important aspects of the record industry: the record. Without something to sell we can't make a profit, which means you don't have a career." He leaned forward. "The only thing that has changed here is that you're able to tick one more box in the list of demographics."

"Oh hell to the no, that is not what this is." She stood up. "I am not just some recent high school graduate with a great voice and sweet style any more. I am the voice of a generation. My presence is just as important part of the package as the rest of it. If they can't see me, then they're not really hearing me." She put her hands on her hips. "And I am not down with that."

The executives murmured amongst themselves. One of them whispered something to the president, who then turned back to Mercedes. "Miss Jones, I implore you to drop this Lady GaGa alter-ego claptrap. You are not magic, you are not divine, you are an employee, and I will terminate your contract if you continue with this attitude."

"1-2-3-4"

She wasn't just about the bunnies.

Chang'e rose. Her feet left the ground, her dress dangled off her body, shifting slightly in the breeze of the air system. The executives gaped. Joey did too, but it was more in reverence. That was his client. So cool. The president had lost all of his former bravado, instead trying to pick his jaw off the floor as the girl strutted across the air above the table and approached him. When she was right in front of his seat she snapped again and landed, the clack of her heels echoing through the now-silent office. She leaned down.

"This is how it's gonna work. You're gonna get me gigs. Concerts. Find me a public space where I can gather my fans and let me sing. No albums, that's just a waste of our time. Live and in person: that's how you pray."

"I-I-I-I-" replied the president. He stopped trying to speak, as it was a lost cause now, and instead ruffled through his notes. "How does Central Park sound?"

Chang'e smirked. "It sounds divine." She spun around and walked across that table like it was a runway because for her it was. She floated off the end and into the waiting elevator. "Joey, grab my bunny."

Her agent quickly scooped bundle of stone fluff off the ground and dashed after her.


	6. The Gospel of Google

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the gap between updates. School happened, and it happened really hard. That's why this chapter is a little on the short side, too - I'm trying to build back some of my steam from before. I'm not gonna promise a regular update schedule or anything, but I will try and get in at least a few each week.

Rachel sat in the tub as the shower water cascaded over her head. She didn’t normally do this, she kept reminding herself, but she figured that by this point she had earned it. A week had passed and two of her best friends had been sentenced to death.

No, she shouldn’t think about it like that. She couldn’t. Because even after everything, Bragi and Mercedes - and _Chang’e_ \- they had a point. They were given gifts and they planned on using them. Rachel was free to mourn them right now if she wanted to, they weren’t going to ask her to stop. They understood that it was hard for her. But they also made it clear that acting like they were already dead was a big waste of time.

Slowly, Rachel stood up. She took a breath and turned the water off. Her fingers had gone all prune-y, and bumped over her skin was she brushed her hair out of her face. The mirror had fogged up so much it was pretty much just grey, and even though she knew it would leave streaks she couldn’t help but wipe the mist away to look at her face. Fuck. She looked exhausted, which was crazy because she’d spent the last few days hiding in her room and alternating between moping and napping, and only letting Quinn come in.

Quinn seemed like the only friend who hadn’t been judging her. Blaine, of course, was totally on board with everything. Sam and Artie had warmed up, too. And judging by Facebook, most of her friends thought that the Recurrence was the best thing since sliced bread. But Quinn...Rachel had no idea where she stood. If she thought it was cool then she didn’t let on. She would silently bring Rachel food and ask how she was doing; Rachel often said she was fine without meaning it, and Quinn probably knew that, but she’d accept it regardless.

Rachel plugged in the blowdryer and began getting herself ready. This was ridiculous. It was time for her to get back out in the world. Get back on stage, live her life. Maybe even go to the concert that Chang’e and Bragi were planning together. No matter what had changed about them, be it their wardrobes or their talent or their mortality, they still looked and acted like her friends. What kind of person was she to abandon them now?

She went through her daily routine, picking up speed as she went along. By the time she was finished, she felt like herself again. She realized she was smiling as she exited the bathroom.

Quin and Sam were sitting at the table. Quinn was reading an indie magazine that she must have grabbed from the bodega down the street. Artie was looking at things on the laptop, just like he was every day.

“Do you ever got off that thing Artie?” Rachel asked, causing the two to perk their heads up. They both put on relieved smiles when they saw that she had seemingly gotten over her melancholy.

“Occasionally,” he replied, “but I’m trying to keep track of everything. Researching the backstories for the gods, old Recurrences. Stuff like that.”

“He’s sleuthing,” Quinn snarked back as she sipped her coffee.

“I’m not sleuthing,” he retorted. “I just like being in the know. Figure out what it is the gods can do. Like, check it.” He spun the computer around and showed them a vine. It showed Chang’e walking down the road - no, walking above the road. Her feet never touched the ground. She was saying something, but the cheering around her was too loud for anybody to hear

“Yeah, Chang’e floats,” Rachel replied. “I already looked up her story.” Artie looked at her in surprise, and she rolled her eyes. “You’re not the only one who can google stuff, you know.”

Artie scoffed. “Still, you get me, right? They’ve got powers based off of their myths. They’re kinda like superheroes.”

Quinn closed the magazine and set it down. “Okay, so then what can Bragi do? Tell poetry really well? I mean, that’s kind of what they’ve all done. Historically, I mean.”

Artie nodded. “Yeah, that’s a weird one. He’s a wisdom god too, but that doesn’t seem to extend to anything specific. I looked up knowledge deities and a lot of them double up with other things, like the moon or magic or stuff like that. There are some others that only look after that, but I haven’t found any evidence of them appearing in the Recurrence before.”

Rachel had moved to the counter and was pouring herself some coffee. “Wait, we have records of the deities that were in previous Recurrences?”

“Sort of,” Artie replied. “Partial records. There have been a lot of people claiming to be deities over the centuries, and most of them are fairly...crazy. Anthropologists have had to cross-reference and double-check all sorts of claims to try and figure out where a Recurrence took place and which deities were involved.”

Rachel shook her head. “This is all so crazy. A week ago these were just legends, and now -”

“Now we’re friends with the moon,” Quinn muttered. There was a pause, and then all three of them started to laugh softly.

“We are,” Rachel said. “We really are.” She took a breath to calm down. “Okay, well, I’m going to go down to the theatre and see what’s been going on. I missed a bunch of shows but they understood I was under extreme emotional distress.” She grabbed her belongings and began walking out the door, then turned. “Oh, and if another god shows up, text me.”

“Will do,” Artie called as she shut the door.

* * *

It was a half-hour commute from her apartment to the theatre via the subway, which meant Rachel had time to get in some light reading. Before it had been pocket romance novels or the occasional tabloid magazine, but recently her tastes in literature had shifted. She had grabbed a book off of Blaine’s shelf months ago because it looked vaguely interesting, but she hadn’t cracked it open until a few days ago. It was a book on Greek myths. She scanned the table of contents, then flipped to the appropriate page to begin reading the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice.


	7. First Rule of God Club

It wasn’t too hard for Chang’e’s label to get her gig performing in Central Park. They had already booked one of their other major up-and-coming artists there, and all it took was some shuffling around in order to make her fit. When they found out that she was able to get Bragi to join her as her opening act they were even more thrilled. The park was a hive of activity as workers assembled the stage for her. She had been clear that she didn’t need anything fancy, as long as they were in a spot large enough to fit her fans. The only request she and Bragi had was a bundle of backstage passes for their friends.

The two gods sat with Blaine and Sam in a nearby trailer as they watched everything come together through the window. A trio of jade rabbits hopped around their feet, occasionally thudding against the trailer wall. “Amazing,” Blaine said in awe as he leaned back in his lawn chair. “Would you have though five years ago that you’d be performing in Central Park?” he asked his fiancee.

Bragi smiled. “There are a lot of things I thought I’d never be doing five years ago.” He held a pad of paper in his hand and was absentmindedly writing things down. Blaine figured it was some kind of power ballade that he was composing for the show. Or maybe for fun. He wasn’t sure if any of Bragi’s songs had any real words in them, or at least words that people could identify.

Sam was sipping on a complementary mimosa that the show’s promoter had offered him. “I can’t believe that both of us have made out with gods,” he said with a smirk. Blaine gave him a look. “What? It’s true. I mean, okay, I only made out with ‘Cedes before she ascended, but it counts, right?”

Chang’e giggled. “Sam, I think that makes you some kind of Recurrence hipster.”

Bragi smiled. “Ah, yes, you knew the gods before they were cool.”

Blaine shrugged. “Well, we know two of them. Who knows who the other ones will be.” He absently scratched his chin. “Though we haven’t heard about a new one for a few days now.”

“They might just be hiding,” Chang’e offered. “I mean, she never said that we had to burst onto the scene immediately.” Bragi shot her a look.

This caught Blaine’s attention. “Who’s ‘she’?”

Bragi shook his head. “No, just forget about it.”

“Forget about what?”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to talk about it.”

Blaine frowned. He and Bragi had been doing so well lately, dealing with his divinity and everything. Now all of a sudden he had lost all of his previous mirth and looked more dire than ever. “Bragi, what aren’t you allowed to tell me?”

Sam put a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Dude, chill. It's just god club.”

He looked to his friend. “Huh?”

“God club. You know, they’ve obviously got their own stuff. First rule about god club is you don’t talk about god club.”

“Besides Blaine,” Bragi added, “if I thought you needed to know about it then I’d tell you. But it’s better that we drop it.”

Chang’e nodded. “He’s right, I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.”

Blaine let out a slow breath. “Okay.”

“What we’re saying, though,” Bragi continued, “is that maybe somebody is becoming a god right now.”

* * *

“You are of the Pantheon. You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant. Within two years, you will be dead.

“You are the final messenger. Angel of light. Of communication. Of revelation.”

“We meet again, Gabriel,” said Ananke. “I’ve missed you.”

* * *

“Then they’ll probably just wait a bit to announce themselves in a cool and fun way.”

Sam smiled. “Oh, you know who’d be a cool god to have show up? Zeus. Get all his lightning bolts all over the place.

Blaine frowned. “Oh, ew, no. Zeus would do nothing but have sex with everything and be a terrible father.”

Chang’e nodded. “Yeah, Sam, you should probably look up the old myths before you make suggestions like that.”

Sam pouted. “But...but he was so cool in _Hercules_...”

“Personally, I wanna see Artemis or one of the other moon goddesses,” Chang’e said. “Get some moon squad action going on.”

Blaine nodded. “Huh. I always liked the Egyptian gods as a kid.” He snickered. “I guess that’s what a childhood of _Yu-Gi-Oh_ and _Mummy’s Alive_ will do to a person. But Anubis would be cool.” He turned to Bragi. “What about you? Who would you like to see show up?”

Bragi shook his head. “Oh, I shouldn’t answer that. I know too many of them.”

“How many?”

Bragi looked right into Blaine’s eyes. “All of them. All their stories, all their myths, all their legends.” He sighed. “That’s why I’ve been writing. I’ve got way too many stories in my head to keep it clear. I have to get them out.” He blinked, as if he had forgotten that he was writing something until he actually acknowledged it out loud. He looked down at the pad and scanned his eyes over the pages. “I think I just rewrote the entire story of Pandora’s Box from memory.”

“Ooh, let me see!” Sam said as he reached for it. “That one’s my fav!”

Blaine stood up. “I’m gonna stretch my legs,” he said as he walked away. He grabbed his coat as he stepped into the chill January air. There was another rabbit outside (Mercedes really needed to keep track of those) casually nibbling on the grass poking through the snow. He wondered if they needed to eat. Did they even have organs? Tiny little jade hearts pumping streams of dust through tiny veins? Blaine wondered how long it would be until somebody from the scientific community asked Chang’e to donate one for dissection.

He didn’t like not knowing what was going on. Lack of communication was what tore him and Kurt apart so many times before, and now that he had become a _god_ of speaking Blaine thought that maybe those troubles were over. Still, Bragi thought that it wasn’t important, and Blaine trusted his judgement that much.

Ugh. The last thing he wanted to do was become like Rachel and mope in the bathroom for a week.

His phone buzzed with several alerts. Tina had just arrived in New York. Mike was on his way from L.A. to do the same. The rest of the alumni were finding spots in their schedules to find ways to the city, like so many others flocking to see the latest pantheon. And he had a new twitter follower - somebody named Gabriel, who’s avatar was just a picture of a trumpet.

Blaine texted Tina, telling her to go straight to the Bushwick apartment and he’d meet her there, plus Artie and Quinn should be there all day. He then shot Kurt a message for where he was going, promising that he’d be back in time for the concert the next night. Snow had started falling, but it wasn’t too cold out. He figured he could walk from here.

* * *

People across the globe swarmed into the airport. Most of them were under twenty five. Tina figured that rockstar gods were more appealing to the youth than the elders. She knew for a fact that she would have come to New York even if her friends hadn’t joined the ranks of the Pantheon, but she didn’t tell anybody this - it just seemed so impersonal.

She was one of many who had been enraptured by the performances she saw. She heard stories from those who were their live about how they felt so fulfilled with meaning that they nearly burst. She wanted to experience that for herself. She wanted to feel revelation. First she wanted to get away from the crowd, who were loud and obnoxious and in need of a shower.

She slipped down an empty hallway in the hopes that it was a shortcut to the exit. She didn’t stop to think that it was empty for a reason, and she didn’t fully acknowledge the tape that had been torn down indicating that the area was under construction. Really, she didn’t notice until her foot stepped onto broken and jackhammered tile that maybe she’d taken a wrong turn. She sighed. “Ugh, classic Tina.” She kicked a tile for emphasis, turned -

\- and saw a woman. She was draped in a black cloak, a matching veil over her eyes, but it was lacey enough that she could still see them. Were they...purple? Had she followed -

\- falling. Burning. Glowing. Ancient power surrounded her and filled her.

“You are of the Pantheon. You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant. Within two years, you will be dead.

“You are the morning star. Goddess of the sun. Of protection. Of of exorcism.”

“We meet again, Zorja Utrennjaja,” said Ananke. “I’ve missed you.”

Zorja rose from the crater she was kneeling in, marvelling at the pale gold skirt and scarf wrapped around her. Tattoos of stars ran up her arms to her shoulders, and she could feel them meeting across her shoulder blades. She could also feel the gold paint covering the top of her face, and the streaks of it running through her hair. She could also feel the sun, so far away, peeking through the clouds, and she thought that maybe it could feel her.

“I’m number three?” she asked carefully. She remembered so much now. Ananke. Yes, they had met before. Many times. She (Zorja) had been here many times, but she was still Tina. It was all very funny feeling, but a good kind. Like a fizzy lifting drink.

“Number four,” Ananke replied as she took Zorja’s hands. “Gabriel wants to take a different approach, but I’m sure we’ll all be hearing from him soon.”

Zorja nodded. “There are others here, I think.” She looked to the side. In front of her was a wall, but beyond that, where the sun was shining, there was so much.

“Yes. And more are coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two gods in one chapter! Wow! Fun fact: Tina's god has changed like twelve times. At times she was Sedna, sometimes she was Hestia, I think I think I had her as Shiva at some point. But I finally settled. As for Gabriel's identity, well...it is a mystery. But you can probably guess it.


	8. Here Come the Morning Stars

It wan’t until Rachel entered the theatre from the back entrance and heard the exasperated cries of her director that she began to wonder what kind of state the production had gotten itself into after she had left. A group of chorus girls ran past her in tears, barely registering that she was there. Eddie’s actor Jeremy spoke into his phone in a hushed voice while standing in the wings, though Rachel could hear the words “agent” and “contract" and “disaster”. He glanced up and saw her, and when they locked eyes he hung up without another word.

“Rachel Berry, how nice of you to show your face around here.” He sauntered over to her, glowering. “You know, I was beginning to think that maybe you had forgotten about Broadway altogether.”

Rachel scoffed. “Oh, can it Jeremy. I never ‘dropped out’, I just took some time for personal reasons.”

“Oh, right.” He waved his hands in the air with a flourish. “The gods!” he declared in tone of mocking awe. “Please, those loons are just the latest fad. Give them another month and they’ll be yesterday’s news.”

Rachel rolled her. “Whatever you say. I just want to get back on the stage.”

“You really think Sidney is going to let you back on the stage?”

She brushed past him, trying not to listen to his comments. Jeremy was always a shit disturber, but she wasn’t about to let him get to her today. She marched onto the stage, past the others and directly into the spotlight. It was the most natural thing she’d done all day.

The moment Sidney saw her he threw his arms into the air. “Rachel! There she is!”  The producer clambered up the stares and walked towards her. “My one and only goddess!” Rachel smiled and hugged him when he got close enough. “And I do mean that,” he continued.

“Oh Sidney, stop it!” she giggled. “I’m still the same girl you cast all those weeks ago.”

“Still, in my eyes you are miles beyond those other facades cavorting about the city.” He paused. “Speaking of which, no offence of course, how are your friends?”

Rachel shrugged. “They're alright. They’re famous now, and that’s great for them, but I’ve decided I have to stop worrying about their lives and start focusing on my own.”

Sidney nodded excitedly. “An excellent choice. Yes! Now, I know you’ve been gone a while but I have no doubts that you’ll be able to just jump right in!”

It’s not surprising that somebody who has been rehearsing the same role since infancy would be able to run on autopilot, and Rachel Berry did just that. She kept her ears perked for notes on changes in blocking that she had missed, or to changes that the director felt suited the choreography better, but she spent most of the rehearsal thinking about Eurydice.

The plot went as such:

Eurydice fell in love with Orpheus the musician, and he with her. They were due to be wed, but as Eurydice was walking with the other nymphs she caught the eye of a satyr. She tried to evade him, but in doing so fell into a nest of serpents and was killed. Distraught, Orpheus played the most mournful songs on his lyre, and so sad were they that all the gods and mortals in the area wept with grief. They told him to go to the Underworld and try to bring his lover back. Orpheus went on the quest to the land of the dead, and was met with several obstacles. First was Charon, the ferryman, who only gave passage to those who had died and brought proper payment. But after hearing Orpheus’ music, his heart softened and he brought the man into the Underworld. Next Orpheus was blocked by Cerberus, the monstrous three-headed dog that guarded the gates. But again, Orpheus played such sweet melodies that Cerberus was lulled into a peaceful slumber. Finally Orpheus was met by the rulers of the Underworld, Hades and Persephone. At first they refused, but Orpheus was so talented and so in love that both god and goddess felt his pain. They allowed Eurydice’s return on one condition: that he walk in front of his bride, and not look upon her until they had both reached the land of the living once again. Orpheus began his journey back, and though he wanted to turn around the entire time, he had to trust that his bride had followed him. But just as he neared the exit he could bear the pain no longer, he had to see Eurydice. As he turned he caught the briefest glimpse of her face before she vanished - forever.

Rachel was not Eurydice. She was Orpheus. And she was a musician far beyond what he was. All she needed now was a god of death.

* * *

Quinn rifled through the skirts that hung off the rack. “I have got to come to New York more often,” she stated as she pulled out one she liked for a closer look. “You’d never get designers like this in New Haven.”

“You’d think that’d be different, what with the Ivy League presence and all that jazz,” Artie replied with a frown.

Quinn grabbed another skirt and added it to the pile of clothes she was balancing on her forearm. “I guess some of them just don’t like straying out of New York. I mean, it is a sort of fashion-central for the states when you think about it.” They began walking to the checkout. “Thanks again for showing me around the mall. I’d probably get lost without you.”

Artie grinned. “Hey, no problem. It’s fun catching up with you, and I like coming to the mall during my down time.” He gazed outside the store’s doors. “It’s got a great atmosphere. Perfect for people watching.”

After Quinn paid, they made their way to the food court to grab a quick bite. After spending so much on clothes, Artie treated the two of them to a pair of Teen Burgers and some root beer floats. Sun peeked through the clouds on the other side of the skylight and glinted off the beads of condensation on their glasses.

“So tell me,” Quinn said between popping fries in her mouth. “What do you think the gods are here for?”

Artie raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, they’re clearly not here just for the sake of holding concerts and getting fans. There’s got to be a bigger purpose.”

Artie shrugged. “Well, isn’t that a purpose in itself? To spread inspiration and joy through art?” He took a bite of his burger and swallowed. “I’d be totally down with that.”

Quinn let out a small, breathy laugh. “So you’re saying you’d be okay with being a part of the Pantheon?”

Artie shook his head. “No, I don’t think I could handle the two-year lifespan. It’s a shame, really. Everybody loves to romanticize the tragic artist, but if they ever had to live it out then I’m sure they’d freak out.”

Quinn took a sip of her float, shading here eyes from the glaring sunlight. “Bragi and Chang’e seem to be doing fine.”

“Bragi and Chang’e have reached a higher state of mental awareness, I think.” Artie snagged another fry. “And Gabriel too.”

Quinn nodded. “Right, the new guy.” She pulled out her phone and looked. Earlier that day, it seemed that everyone on twitter had been followed by an account simply titled @Gabriel, and he had followed them. A sudden manifestation of divine social media that was impossible to block or message. He simply was. “Gabriel was the messenger angel. He had a tendency to deliver messages to prophets and important people in most of the Abrahamic religions.” Artie raised an eyebrow at Quinn, who just shot him a look. “I was Christian for most of my youth, remember? And I’ve got a theology major, so there.”

Artie squinted in the bright sunlight streaming through the skylight. “Does it seem to be getting brighter in here?”

“Yeah, it does...” Quinn trailed off as she glanced around the area. A lot of people held their hands to their face in order to shield their eyes from the glare. Many had moved away from the food court to the more shaded parts of the mall. A small group was growing near a stage that was set up near the escalators. “Artie, is their normally a stage over there?”

He looked where she was gesturing. “Yeah, there’s usually some up-and-coming act that puts on a mini-concert here before they go on tour or something. It can be a big deal sometimes. Why?”

Quinn stood up. “I think there’s about to be another gospel.” She quickly walked towards the crowd, with Artie steadily rolling behind her. They began to maneuver their way through the people, trying to get a closer look. Somebody was climbing onto the stage, somebody clad in beautiful shining yellow, somebody familiar.

Artie gasped. “Tina,” he said softly. But of course he knew it wasn’t her. She had a new name, and a new look.

Zorja Utrennjaja took to the stage and sang like the sun. She shone, and spread warmth and light in the hearts of everyone there. It was soft as silk and as comforting as a hug.

_This is good for her,_ Quinn thought through all the noise. _She deserves to be in the spotlight_. It was all she could think before suddenly the tune shifted. Because the sun isn’t just peace and tranquility. It can be harsh and fiery and shine like a disco ball. The crowd was consumed by the power and the beat, and what had began as a slow ballade suddenly broke out into a party that nobody saw coming.

* * *

Meanwhile, a gaggle of protestors had assembled in Central Park.

“What is this fuckery,” Bragi demanded as he looked out at the growing crowd before he began walking towards them. Chang’e floated near him. Sam and Blaine, who had been watching the crowd develop with growing concern, ran in front of the two.

“Whoa whoa whoa guys, let’s take it easy,” Blaine stuttered. “They don't seem like the people you want to get tangled up with.”

“It’s fine,” Bragi said as he moved past the boys. He never took his eyes off the protestors. They didn’t look any different from any mob of angry people he’d seen before. They’re signs had generic Christian imagery all over them, and when he was within range he could hear them chanting.

“End! Pagan! Worship! There’s only one God! End! Pagan! Worship! There’s only one God!”

Fucking ridiculous. Bragi rolled his eyes as he got to the edge of the concert ground. “Hey! Yelling folk! Can you take this elsewhere?” He crossed his arms. “What even are you?”

A well-dressed man, seemingly the leader, turned to face him. “We are a collective of concerned Christian citizens who are trying to put a stop to this before it gets out of hand!” he shouted. Those behind him noted and murmured in agreement. “This Pagan worship is just a precursor to complete societal collapse!”

“Hold up,” Chang’e jutted into his rant. “You’re saying that the world’s gonna go to shit just because there are gods that aren’t yours? That’s messed up.”

“Yeah,” Bragi added, “even if we weren’t here you’d still be completely offensive and rude. Besides, isn’t one of your angels with us in this Recurrence? Gabriel?”

A woman stepped beside the man. “That so-called ‘angel’ is nothing more than a heretic spreading false gospels to promote dissent among the believers!” She held up her phone. “He is  _clearly_ using a _virus_ to force everyone to follow his Twitter account. He is no worse than the false angel Lucifer!”

Chang’e scoffed. “I wish we had Lucifer right now. He’d probably tell y’all how stupid you’re being, and coming from him it’d be extra-nasty.”

“We are not just protesting for the sake of it!” the man yelled into Bragi’s face. “We have proof! When the so-called pantheon convened in 1923 they incited a riot so large that London was nearly destroyed!” He shoved a sheaf of papers in Bragi’s face. “If you continue your blasphemous acts then the only thing you’ll bring is chaos and tragedy!”

Bragi scowled and smacked the papers away. “Do _not_ disrespect me like that.” His eyes narrowed, and for the first time since his awakening he began to truly emanate divine power. He held up his fingers primed for a snap. The crowd had no actual knowledge of what Bragi could do with those fingers, but they backed away regardless. Bragi went on. “And do _not_ suppose that this is anything more than a riot of belief. Just like all of the Pantheon’s gatherings over time.” His eyes began to glow. “You think that you’re special because you just so happen to believe in a certain deity? This world was _built_ on everyone’s beliefs being different. The Recurrence is happening because this era needs gods again.”

He snapped his finger then, and a shockwave rippled through the area. The crowd went silent and gazed into the distance, each of them suddenly faced with a force beyond what they expected. Bragi smirked. “Do you understand now?”

The man who had been speaking before looked upon Kurt in terror. “Demon! Witch! You’ve played with our minds!”

Bragi rolled his eyes and turned. “Chang’e, can you deal with these plebeians?”

Chang’e smiled and stepped forward. “Alright haters, here’s the deal. We booked this area of the park fair and square, so technically y’all are trespassing. If you come back here tonight then we’re just gonna sic security on each and every one of you. In the mean time, you can just _float on_.” She snapped, and the entire concert ground was enveloped in a shimmering bubble. It expanded outwards, and as it reached the protestors it pushed them away. The barrier stretched until it encompassed almost half the park. Try as they might, the dissenters couldn’t get past the wall. They shouted curses at the goddess, but she didn’t care. This was her and Bragi’s territory. They could hate somewhere else.


	9. Let's Go to the Hop

“Puck, what the fuck?”

Puck snorted and looked up from where he was sitting. His head leaned against the door to the loft, and he had draped his coat over himself like a blanket. He squinted and looked at Quinn and Artie with disdain.

“What the fuck yourself, bro,” he muttered to Artie as he climbed to his feet. “Blaine said you two would be at the place to let me in. I’ve been sitting here for like...” He paused. “What time is it?”

Quinn checked her phone. “Quarter to ten.”

“I’ve been here like three hours man! I fell asleep because you didn’t respond to any of my texts!” He flailed his arms in frustration. “What were you even doing?”

Artie and Quinn exchanged a sly glance and grinned. Puck immediately scowled. “Oh no, don’t tell me you were bumping uglies. I thought we had seen the last of Quartie.”  
Quinn chuckled. “Puck, calm down. We didn’t do anything. We were just at a party.”

“Yeah man!” Artie added. “Tina joined the pantheon, yo!”

Puck’s eyes went wide. “No shit, really? Fuckin’ A, man! Who is she? Is she one of the hot gods?"

“Which ones are the hot gods?”

Quinn pulled out Rachel’s spare key and slid the door open. “She’s a sun god. Zorja...something. Slavic.” She stepped inside and tossed her coat onto the sofa. “We googled it in the cab ride back.”

Puck followed them inside. “Well what’s she like now? What are her superpowers? And, again, is she hot now?”

“Stop asking me that one!” Quinn said sternly. “And we never got a chance to talk to her. After things died down with at the mall she was nowhere to be seen. Her twitter says she’s still going to the concert, but other than that I don’t know a damn thing.”

Puck was bouncing on his heels now. “Well, we should get going so we’re not late then!”

“Why?” Artie asked. “We’ve got, like, two hours until everything starts. Plenty of time.”

Puck crossed his arms. “Right. It’s just the biggest concert of the year in the middle of Central Park. I’m sure there won’t be huge lineups and a giant crowd waiting to get in.”

Quinn frowned. “He’s got a point. Okay, I’m gonna get ready then.”

She stepped into the bathroom just as the loft door opened again and Rachel burst in. “Is it true? Is Tina a goddess too?”

Artie nodded. “Yup. Me and Quinn saw it ourselves.”

Rachel ran a nervous hand through her hair. “It just doesn’t stop, does it?” She went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. “Two years. We only have two years.” She cracked it open and downed half the bottle in one go.

“Honey, I thought you were over that?” Quinn called from her position in front of the mirror.

The other girl took a deep breath. “I am. It’s just - it’s hard. How many friends am I going to have left after this?” She took another sip. “No. Okay, I’m good. I am happy for Tina and her newfound popularity. Gods know she deserves it. I’ll...I’ll deal with the rest of it later.” She smoothed out her clothes. “I should change.” She dashed over to her room, then poked her head back out a moment later. “Puck, when did you get here?”

“Ask the homeless guy I had to frighten off so I could sleep in the hallway?”

“What? Nevermind.”

She disappeared behind the curtain just as Blaine and Sam entered the room. Blaine was busy looking at his phone. “Brittany says she’s gonna meet us there, I haven’t been able to get a hold of Mike, and Tina...well, y’know.”

“Bro!” Puck cried out when he saw Sam. The two hugged each other. “How’s it been, man?”  
“It’s been cool, dude,” Sam replied. “You know, just chillin’ with the gods and all that. I’ve made out with two now.”

“Are you keeping score, Sam?” Quinn called.

“Hey, I just think it’s interesting trivia.”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Quinn, please don’t go godly or we’re never gonna hear the end of this.”

Quinn stepped out of the bathroom. “I’ll try my best.”

Blaine nodded. “Great. What time is it?”

“Time to go!” Puck whined as he slumped against the breakfast counter.

Blaine checked his watch. “Nah, it’s only ten. I came back here to change anyway.”

Artie shrugged. “Well, I could probably get a little dressed up myself.”

The two went to their own rooms while Puck groaned from the kitchen area. “I don’t wanna be stuck in a cab for an hour and a half!” He shook his head. “Screw it, I’m heading out. See y’all there!” With that he stormed out of the loft and ran down the stairs two at a time. He practically threw himself out of the building and into a cab. It wasn’t until he slammed the door closed that he realized it was occupied.

“Excuse me,” the older woman said softly. Puck grimaced internally when he saw her, all wrinkled and looking like dust. She looked pretty pissed at him, to the point where he thought her eyes were glowing behind her veil.

“Oh, sorry lady. I’ll get the next one.”

“Wait,” she demanded, and he did. “You’re going to the concert, aren’t you?”

Puck nodded. “Uh...yeah. Didn’t want to be late and get stuck in the back of the crowd.”

The lady nodded. “Smart choice.” She faced forward. “Driver, take me and this young man to Central Park.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A smaller chapter after the big one yesterday, and another two big ones coming up. This is mainly just a filler piece because I didn't want to fly directly into the concert proper from where I was. Speaking of, the concert is coming up next, along with the end of Act 1! Yay!
> 
> Thanks everybody for kudos here, it means a lot even if it doesn't seem like much. It's proof that I can actually tell a story that people like.
> 
> Anyway, it might be a while before the next update - but considering I don't really have a set schedule I I'm sure you readers can handle that. Again, the next two chapters are gonna be big, plus I want to work on a short fic for a different fandom before I lose my own hype. See you then!


	10. MagicOfSeveralHundredPrayingInTandem

Central Park was bathed in light as people filtered in. Security lined the area, but they were largely unnecessary - those who truly wished to see the gods could pass through Chang'e's barrier unharmed, and those who had ulterior motives were held back by the forcefield. Many vendors had gotten through, and were selling all manner of merch. There were plenty of stuffed jade rabbits being held by the guests. Shirts displaying icons of the gods were being worn all over the crowd - harps and bunnies on moons and stars inside a sun. Some people even had trumpets for Gabriel, who had clearly become famous even without making a true appearance.

He was there at the concert, present but hidden, watching everything and tweeting it out to the world. He was the messenger, and it was his duty to let the fans know of the pantheon.

"The crowd is getting huge! Everyone better get here quick if you wanna see the #pantheon! #CentralPark #Recurrence @Bragi @ChangE @ZorjaU"

It got a thousand retweets almost immediately.

Gabriel knew that Bragi and Zorja would only be doing opening acts, but this? This was his opening act. His word was all-encompassing. The power to spread his voice across the internet so quickly and so easily. Any message, be it one of hope or wonder or a simple thank you, could reach the intended recipient in the blink of an eye. He never paid attention to those things before his awakening, but now he saw them as the true divinity.

* * *

Rachel exited her taxi with Quinn and Sam right behind her. Artie and Blaine were in the cab behind them. Sam quickly scanned the area until he spotted his ex waving to them. "Over here!" Brittany called over the general hubbub of the other fans. Her friends made their way through the crowd to stand next to her. "OMG guys, this is so exciting!" Brittany squealed. "I've always dreamed that Kurt would be a rockstar or wizard, but now he's both! It's so magical."

"That is definitely one way to put it," Blaine said with a grin. "Did Santana make it to town?" he asked.

Brittany waved her hand absently. "She's around here somewhere. She's gonna try to find us after the thing."

"Speaking of the thing, we should try and get a good spot," Quinn said, glancing through the orb to the huge audience within. "Fuck me, that's like half the city's youth in there. And then some."

It was a good thing they got there when they did, as the line was so slow that they only had five minutes until the opening acts went onstage. While Sam led the charge to the front of the audience, Rachel hung back. "I'll meet you guys there!" she called. "I gotta run to the little girl's room!"

"Okay! I'll try to save room for you," Quinn called back.

* * *

All three of them had performed in public before, and this was nothing new. But it was no less exciting.

Zorja was fanning herself and breathing deeply. "We're so close! This is so hype!" She was glowing (literally) with excitement, and the jade bunnies around her feet flopped around to match her joy. She peaked outside the curtain to see the crowd getting pumped up, and managed to glimpse her friends in the front row. "They're here!" she shouted, and gave a little wave. Artie spotted it and pointed her out to the others, who waved back.

"Okay Zorja, keep it cool," Bragi said softly. "Save some for your performance." He was still writing things down inches notebook, though by now the script had morphed into an indecipherable dialect of ancient Nordic Runes. There were just so many stories, and so little time to tell them. But there was one he had already put aside for tonight, one that he wanted to tell everyone who was listening because he was sure that they'd appreciate it. He didn't need to rehearse - none of them did. Their songs (or whatever they were) came to them through the void and entered their hearts automatically. It seemed so easy sometimes.

Chang'e entered the backstage area in a flourish. Her outfit hadn't changed, but she looked regenerated and ready to perform. Those who were keeping watch out back would have noticed that three minutes before showtime a young woman floated up to the top of the sphere and seemed to be soaking the moonlight in, relaxing in it like one would a bath after a hard workday. The goddess bent down and held a hand out to her rabbits, which flocked to her. "Hello, my darlings. Are you ready to go onstage with momma?" She smiled at them, and they squeaked in reply.

The concert organizer walked in, and the three deities turned to look at him. He didn't glance up from his clipboard. "Alright kids, only a few moments until showtime. Bragi, you're up first, then Zorja." He pronounced the name with a hard J, causing her to scowl a bit. "And then Chang'e, you're the big act and you'll go up after them. Everybody ready?" They all nodded in agreement. "Great. Break a leg!"

* * *

Nobody really paid attention to the girl in the tan and black suit who was humming a No Doubt song under her breath.

* * *

Rachel stepped out of her port-a-potty and took a big breath of fresh air. The concert may have been heavenly but the rest facilities certainly weren't. You'd think with a performance this major somebody would have realized that there'd be thousands of people needing to relieve themselves.

She began speed walking to the concert stage, were the lights were growing brighter. She could hear somebody in the distance start speaking into a microphone. "Central Park…are you ready for the divine?" A cheer rippled across the crowd, and Rachel picked up her pace. Thank goodness I wore flats, otherwise I'd be tripping all over myself. She ducked out of the way as somebody ran past her, and she nearly collided into somebody else.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry," she muttered to the woman. She was an old woman, far from the demographic attending the event tonight, dressed in extremely vintage clothing - like, circa the 19th century. "Are…are you okay?" she asked cautiously.

The woman stared at her intently, then nodded. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. That was my fault, young lady." She turned to walk away. "Do enjoy the concert."

Rachel stared after the woman as she left. There was something immensely interesting about her. To the point were she could practically feel it emanating from the woman. It was here eyes. There was something different about them -

Falling. Something had sent her flailing towards the ground. And just before she hit, an arm dove around her back.

"Oh shit, there you are."

She looked up at Puck, who practically body slammed her and would have nearly drove her into the ground had he not caught her in time. He helped her to her feet. "Sorry, I was panicking because I couldn't find you guys and my phone died, and then I wasn't watching were I was going -"

"It's fine, Puck. Let's get going." Rachel took off again, Puck hot on her heels babbling something about how hyped he was for this thing. She nodded, but she couldn't help but look over her shoulder towards were the old woman had left. She couldn't see her, but she was certain that the lady was still watching her. Watching everything there.

* * *

Bragi went first.

His voice told a story about nostalgia and memory and revival. About a band of friends brought together by fate and led on a wild trip across the world, spreading art and hope wherever they went. Their lives were the things of legend, and their lovers went on to found societies and clubs and teams that changed the world. The band set foot in a town and played for all too see, and even though some of its members perished in the process, they always did so with style and grace. The music they made brought the world together, ever so briefly, and nobody paid mind to the fates they were given. They were divine. They were loved. They died. And it was worth it.

Zorja Utrennnjaja went second.

Her voice told no story at all, except for the now. Any narrative she held was only for the day, but the day was all that one needed. A single day could let you confess your love. A single day could let you repair a burned bridge. A single day gave you time enough to hold your friends, your family, yourself just a little closer and just a little longer. When the sun was in the sky, anything could happen. It chased off not just the things that hid in darkness but the darkness inside oneself, leaving room only for the positive. The gates will close, as they always do, but so long as you had done what you wanted and were proud of it then there was nothing to fear.

Chang'e went next.

Her voice filled the park. It was liquid silver. She was the main attraction, and she had time to let it build. The park filled with her light with each cosmic syllable uttered, surrounding those in attendance and permeating their bodies and minds. It was a melancholy, but one that everyone should feel at least once in your lives. A tranquility of the soul that manifests when the darkness is seen, and it is recorded, and it is accepted into your life. Then it began to grow. It the melancholy stretched thinner and thinner and the souls of the crowd grew higher and higher, glowing in the moonlight.

(the moon which had once matched the bubble around the concert but now grew brighter as the shield grew weaker and its powered flowed back into its mistress to be distributed into the crowd and judging those who would seek to cause trouble irrelevant in this beautiful night)

Then it snapped, leaving eternity in its wake. A life that never ended, that filled itself up and never drained, only growing lighter, brighter, and more beautiful with each passing second. Your journey will never have to end. Your gates will never have to close. Your life is a cycle that always comes back to you.

* * *

The crowd was going wild. The opening acts had done their jobs perfectly, preparing the crowd for the two phases of Chang'e's number. The audience wept, they screamed, they begged for more and received it. Blaine could feel it as he lost himself in the music, and even when his vision went blurry and he was crashing into Quinn he kept on dancing. Brittany and Artie were screaming her names (divine and mortal) and stretching their hands towards her. Puck had fallen on his knees and was weeping with joy. And Sam? Who fucking knows where Sam was. Even as Rachel waved her arms around her, feeling the energy flow off of Chang'e into her, into everyone, and back again, she could tell that things were getting a tad out of control. She'd been to concerts before and knew how rowdy people could get, but she was suddenly recalling horror stories she'd heard about when things became too much.

Things were becoming too much.

The audience surged towards the stage, startling the rabbits dancing around the goddess' feet. People screamed in the back, not out of joy but out of surprise. Security had failed and the bubble had failed, and the protestors who had been lining the streets now mingled with those who had come for the show. And though the energy remained, it was no longer under Chang'e's control. In a few moments the concert had become a riot.

The woman in the suit smiled and began to weave her hands through the air. "Sorry I'm not home right now," she sang softly, and a pair of protestors tripped over each other's feet. "I'm walking into spiderwebs." One of the spotlights went out with as burst, and those thrust into the darkness shouted in surprise. "Leave a message and I'll call you back." Several people collapsed when they found that their shoelaces had spontaneously been tied together.

Rachel and her friends had been standing as a group, but now suddenly she couldn't see any of them. Her mind seemed to be cycling through every emotion she'd ever felt and she had the sickening feeling that it was not doing it of its own volition. Everyone else around her seemed to be gripped in a lunatic panic, running around like chickens with their heads cut off and feeling from a danger that may or may not be there. Glimpses of both protestors and security guards appeared to her between the bodies rushing around her, some of them panicking like the others and some of them actively fighting with the audience. People had started to clamber onto the stage and Bragi and Zorja were immediately beside their compatriot, shouting hexes and throwing up blinding lights to protect her. She saw Quinn and instinctively grabbed her arm, pulling the girl towards her and moving the two of them away from the crowd. Somehow Blaine and Puck appeared next to her. They made their way to the East of the stage in the hopes that there would be less rioting there.

The concert had lasted an hour before the riot began, and the riot itself lasted another half hour before the cops could intervene and start stabilizing the situation. Brittany and Artie came from the other side of the park, as they had been forced that way when the crowd surged. "Sam!" Blaine called out. "Has anybody seen Sam?"

"Up here," came Chang'e's voice. The group looked up and saw that their friend had been one of those who climbed onto the stage. He had passed out, and Chang'e rested his head in her lap. "I think my song really got to him." She stroked his head cautiously, and he groaned. Zorja walked over and examined him.

"Hmm…meh, he'll be fine." She stood up straight. "That was fun except for the end part."

"Yeah, that's gonna be the story all over the news alright," Bragi snarked. "'Pantheon Causes Pagan Riot in Central Park, Deport Them Immediately'." He rolled his eyes.

Rachel frowned. "I can't believe those pricks were able to get in." She crossed her arms. "I'm sorry about this guys. You guys deserved a better concert than this. Especially you Chang'e." Chang'e smiled at the remark. "I liked your song, I wish you could have finished it."

The goddess carefully put Sam's head down, then floated to her friend. "Don't worry Rachel. There's always next time."

"Yeah, well, next time might be sooner than you think," a female voice called out. It was smooth and warm and laced with a bucket sass, but when he group looked around they couldn't see the owner anywhere.

"Santana?" Brittany asked carefully.

"Up here."

The group looked up at Santana as she descended from the scaffolding of the stage, a single silken thread hanging from her fingertip. She was dressed in a tan suit covered in intricate spiderweb designs, and a ruby spider-shaped choker sparkled from her neck.

"Holy crap, Santana's one too," Quinn murmured.

Santana raised an eyebrow at the remark. "Oh come on Quinn, is that any way to great your Auntie Nancy?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, we return. This chapter is huge.
> 
> Ok, first things firsts, WicDiv #11 was amazing and horrible and I was a wreck and I read it in my friends car and they thought they might have to pull over so I could hyperventilate safely. Also, due to the events of that issue, I've had to tweak a few things I was planning. My ultimate goal for this whole thing hasn't changed, and in fact I think it'll work better because I feel like the comic is headed in a different direction (I thought I was so smart and predicted the endgame of the comic but HAHA nope). However I will say that this fic isn't going to include the world building that occurred in issue #11 or likely anything introduced after.
> 
> But hey! If you're only reading this for Glee then I guess you're at an advantage because you don't have to worry about that stuff. But you should. Go read WicDiv.
> 
> Also Anansi has landed. That's cool. And another god's coming in the next chapter. No big hints except that they've got swagger. Finally, and I'm just pointing this out because I'm afraid some people might miss it, but there is a hidden second meaning in this chapter title. You probably spotted it right away though and I'm likely just overestimating my abilities of subtelty.
> 
> Finally, I've removed the tags for characters who have yet to appear, since nothing bugs me more than reading a work where they will appear but don't, and I realized that I should practice what I preach.


End file.
